


Rust and Stardust

by Fudgyokra



Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Category: Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (2012-2013)
Genre: Age Difference, F/F, Genderbending, Mommy Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26940652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra
Summary: Despite what she might say, she wasn’t blindsided by Carrie’s interest. She was afraid of her own.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Carrie Kelley
Series: Kinktober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930009
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Rust and Stardust

**Author's Note:**

> This was edited quickly to get it in on time, so sorry for any mistakes or weird flow!
> 
> For fem Dick’s given name I chose Richelle, because that becomes Ricky, which becomes Rick, then Dick. Etymology is fun, but I feel like I wasted so much time researching and debating on a name when I was just gonna call her Dick the whole time, anyway. 😅
> 
> Day 10: Mommy/Daddy kink | ~~Somnophilia~~ | ~~Scissoring~~

In the deepest part of the Cave, where stalactites dripped with rhythmic little _plinks_ of sound, Dick sat hunched over candlelit casework with her cheek against her palm. Whenever the flame fluttered, so did her eyelids, heavy from two consecutive nights without sleep. On her elbow’s third attempt to slide wearily out from under where she had it propped on the desk, she finally gave up, blowing out the light and padding through the shadows toward the distant beam of brightness that represented her and Carrie’s makeshift bedroom.

Bruce would’ve hated how she quit so early, if he were still there. He would have probably hated a great many things about the revival of the Batman mantle, but, once his heart heaved its last painful beat, the decision ultimately fell on Carrie’s shoulders.

She had come calling in the middle of a rainy night, no Sons of Batman to accompany her all the way to Dick’s door, and Dick just didn’t have it in her to say no.

That was three years ago. She could still remember Carrie’s voice, dazzling and commanding like her presence, telling Dick everything that had happened—could hear her words like they’d been spoken yesterday: “I need your help. I’m going to be Batman.” Not _I want,_ like Dick could picture herself saying once upon a time, before all this pain, but _I’m going to be._

She smiled privately at the memory.

Carrie, as she tended to be, was already inside the room when Dick arrived.

“Oi,” she said, the way she always started voicing her complaints, namely with Dick, “you look like you’re about to croak. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

“As in, eight hours of it?” Dick pleasantly returned. Her smile rose to her eyes, which she could feel losing their will to stay open by the minute. “My memory escapes me.”

Carrie huffed what could have easily been interpreted as both a laugh and a groan. She was like Bruce in that way, but the similarities didn’t stretch much further. Dick knew she was only looking out for her, and that she didn’t necessarily mean to be short. It was as endearing as it was funny.

“I bet it has, old maid.”

“You’d better watch that smart mouth.”

Not expecting a response, Dick stripped off her tank top and clambered to bed in only the shorts she put on after her shower that evening. Conversely, Carrie had set her nightgown on a nearby chair in a neatly-folded square for easy transportation to the bathroom where she always changed.

Tonight, she didn’t leave. It was a strange first for Dick’s bleary gaze to zero in on the freckled skin of Carrie’s shoulder, first one then the other as she twisted under the glow of the lamp to pull her shirt off. Dick watched her pour the gown past her head and shoulders, the fabric sliding delicately down the length of her spine, falling just above her knees.

For reasons she couldn’t put a name to, Dick found herself holding her breath as Carrie bunched up the hem, reached up to drag her shorts down, and fold them for later washing.

Then she turned, her grin toothy and sure. “You’re staring, aren’t you, perv?”

Dick laughed, a sudden sound startled out of her. “I’m just surprised. You don’t usually change in the room with me.”

“That’s because you have no shame,” Carrie shot back, gesturing unabashedly at Dick’s bare chest. “But I’m getting tired of having to walk all the way out there to do it.”

“You don’t _have_ to,” Dick pointed out.

In the silence that followed, she wondered if she ought to promise Carrie her privacy—something that should have been a given; something Dick had unwittingly taken from her by sharing this room—or if doing so would only make an already uncomfortable situation worse.

Carrie looked down at her hands, which twisted in apprehension. Dick felt an acid burn climb up her throat. Wisps of things to say, all of them crowding against one another. She wanted to defend herself against a nebulous concept, a fighting instinct of which she didn’t quite understand the hearth, yet she also wanted to offer consolation.

She and Bruce had always shared a bed. It wasn’t that strange. _Carrie_ and Bruce had shared a bed down here, hadn’t they?

Maybe the difference was that Dick always enjoyed it. She’d even wanted more than just lying ram-rod straight, side by side, even if those things were never granted to her. Now that she was in Bruce’s place, _Batman’s_ place, the implications of how she was thinking of Carrie began blooming behind her eyes like fireworks, loud and neon and alarming. Feeling ill, she closed them.

Whether she was moved to action by Dick’s lack of gaze or had only just discovered the right words, Carrie chose then to speak. “I don’t really mind you looking.” Dick’s nausea turned to a fiercer kind of burn. When she didn’t respond, Carrie switched her tone from earnest to teasing. Her first line of defense. “I did spend all this time working for these abs. Might as well have someone admire them.”

Dick could fake with the best of them, so, with manufactured cheer, she smiled and waved the girl over. “Well, those abs need rest as much as your brain does. Hurry up and get to bed.”

As she lifted herself partially on the bed, one knee up, palms in the covers, Carrie’s expression was hard to read, even for someone who’d become so familiar with her. In it danced something akin to mischief, but the tilt of her mouth was all wrong: Lips parted, jaw slack. She looked down the bridge of her nose at Dick, who stared back with as much apprehension as wonder.

“You could do anything you wanted to me, you know. I’d like it.”

Dick’s breath came out stilted. She looked away, focusing on the shadows in the corner of the room, understanding her mélange of emotions better than she’d like to admit. Despite what she might say, she wasn’t blindsided by Carrie’s interest. She was afraid of her own.

She was a terrible person. Carrie must have seen it, too.

“Go to bed,” she said at last. It was something more befitting Bruce, whose most frequent form of answer in times of uncertainty was always avoiding the question altogether, but she couldn’t commit to a permanent shutdown of Carrie’s behavior while her thoughts still clashed in her head like cymbals.

Carrie hummed as though she were weighing the benefits of being disobedient against the risks. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence. Finally, though, she accepted the direction and tucked herself beneath the covers, her body warm and near to Dick’s but thankfully not touching.

“You’re lucky I’m not taking that personally,” she said.

Dick wasn’t so sure she was.

Time ticked onward, and every time she thought the anxiety would near its peak and allow her to crest the torment of wakefulness into sleep, there was more. In the blurry state between alertness and unconsciousness, she kept half-expecting the grandfather clock in the Manor to ring to life with the hour, even after all this time knowing better.

Carefully, she turned onto her side, eyeing her sleeping partner with curiosity. She looked peaceful this way, with none of the usual signs of strain or deep thought caused by their daily work.

She reached out to brush some of Carrie’s choppy hair back from her face, then trailed her fingers from the corner of her jaw down her neck, skimming over moles and minor abrasions she must have sustained in the field. Her skin was pale where it wasn’t pigmented with freckles and bruises, and Dick found herself wondering if perhaps she could use a bit more sun, as opposed to being locked in the Cave most of the time.

She couldn’t seem to keep from trailing lower, first over Carrie’s collar, then down the flat expanse of her breastbone where it was outlined by her gown. She smoothed her hands over the girl’s ribs and then the ridges of her abs, down to the swirl of her navel, noting the scattering of raised scars. Not as numerous as Dick’s, but far too many for her age.

Carrie tipped her head to the side with a small sound that froze Dick in her tracks. When she didn’t move further, Dick chanced fanning her palm across a delicate hipbone, the tips of her fingers just barely touching where the nightgown dipped between soft thighs.

For an indeterminate amount of time trapped between the silence of the room and the screaming in her head, Dick held her hand there, risking no further movement. Finally, just as she retracted, Carrie reached for her wrist, curling her palm around it to hold it in place.

Dick’s pulse skyrocketed. Carrie opened her eyes without even a flutter of lashes, clearly having been awake some minutes. While Dick cursed her inattentiveness, Carrie parted her lips to whisper faintly into the space between them.“Don’t stop.”

Still, Dick didn’t move. Carrie, apparently emboldened by the fact Dick didn’t try to take her hand back, shimmied closer, parting her legs and pressing more insistently on Dick’s palm. Almost involuntarily, Dick’s fingers twitched at the first hint of heat against them, and after that it was hard not to crumble completely.

She pushed up between Carrie’s legs, cupping the cotton separating her cunt from Dick’s fingers. It was already damp, and skimming a nail over it revealed the shape of her lips beneath. With slight pressure, she teased against the wettest patch until it dipped, the closest she could get to being inside with the underwear in the way.

Even at the mild stimulation, Carrie gasped, hooking her leg over Dick’s hip to encourage more.

She could never deny her.

Dick worked her way beneath the fabric, the beginnings of slick catching her fingers on their path to Carrie’s clit. She didn’t know what unholy force gripped her, but all semblance of hesitation became eclipsed by the image of Carrie biting her bottom lip between her teeth, jerking her hips in inexperienced excitement without even seeming to know what she was searching for. In her twisting, she’d dislodged Dick’s hand from its previous spot, and she gave a muffled groan of dissatisfaction at the loss.

Unable to help herself, Dick laughed, a feathery sound in the darkness but there all the same. “You’re impatient,” she said with fondness, “and squirmy.”

“You’re loud,” Carrie replied, a laughing grin spreading on her face even while her eyes drifted closed the moment Dick’s hand reinstated itself where it was before. “And a tease.”

“What do you want me to do?” Dick slid two fingers inside, just to feel her. Each time she pulled them back, she twisted the best she could in her current position, watching the panties move with the movement and wishing intensely that they were out of the way so she could _see._ Something about that felt intimate, though, as if unveiling her would be the thing that tipped the scale. Ruin the last dredges of righteousness she knew she’d already lost.

Carrie made a series of panting gasps, looking flustered and red. “That,” she said, voice strained. “Do that.”

Dick moved closer, pushing herself up to one shoulder until she hovered just over Carrie’s face. “What about what I was doing before?”

“That too. Just do _anything._ ” She shuddered suddenly, reaching for Dick’s arm and grasping it tightly with one hand. “I need you to. Please, _please._ ”

Dick’s brows lifted. Carrie must have been especially sensitive to be shaking so hard already. Curious, she twisted her fingers until they dripped, reaching up with her thumb to brush Carrie’s clit again.

She opened her mouth to say something else, but the words were taken from her by Carrie’s low moan and tightening thighs. Her eyes opened, blue irises nothing but a thin ring around blown pupils. “Please,” she repeated, then, in an urgent huff, “oh my god.”

Dick leaned down, a shiver racking her own body the instant her lips touched the corner of Carrie’s mouth. Not quite kissing, but feeling the feverish flesh beneath her tongue, tasting the frantic heat of Carrie’s impending orgasm in the prickle of sweat on her upper lip, which trembled around the words, “It’s too much. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

Dick hushed her, startled by the sudden flicker of panic on Carrie’s face, torn between the clear desire to finish and the apparent apprehension of it. “Hey,” she said, lifting to kiss the apple of her cheek, “it’s fine. It can be intense sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Carrie said. Her features briefly pinched in a wince before she began chewing on her lip, brows drawn together. “Is it supposed to be so…much? I guess that’s a stupid question, huh?”

Dick blinked, lips parting for an answer that stuck in her throat. _She had never…?_ “It’s okay.” She repeated her calming sentiment as she moved further down in the covers to nuzzle Carrie’s jaw. “I’ll take care of you.”

Carrie’s breath hitched audibly in her throat. “Yes—yes, that,” she said, as if that had answered all her questions. “I want you to guide me, like…” Pausing, she swallowed hard, glancing at Dick’s chest to avoid her gaze. “Like a mother.”

Dick’s heart felt as though it would swell with feeling. She could do that. _Would_ do that for Carrie. After all, she was a crowd-pleaser at heart. She liked more than anything to teach all she knew to the people who came asking. To guide the lost home.

Maybe when she was in her own grave, Batman would forgive her for this.

She sat up, watching Carrie roll onto her back and prop herself on her elbows, hesitantly fingering the bottom of her nightgown. Even when requesting to be instructed, she couldn’t help but drop hints. She had a mighty need to be in charge, much like Dick did. Much like Bruce had, and Jason too, back then.

Dick smiled, brushing a hand up the exposed skin of Carrie’s calf. “Show mommy where you want to be touched.”

Carrie’s pupils grew impossibly larger, darker. She splayed her legs, pulling her gown up and holding the hem to her chest, just below her breasts. Dick couldn’t tell if she was shy or simply teasing, but her focus slipped back downward, anyway, when Carrie lifted her hips just enough to shove at her underwear with her free hand. They caught around her mid-thighs, and Dick slowly slid them the rest of the way off, skimming touches all the way down her legs as she went.

When Dick’s fingers sank into her cunt again, Carrie yanked the gown to her mouth and bit the bunched fabric, muffling a moan that sounded startled out of her. Her thighs twitched, and Dick grasped one just to feel it fidget. “Come on, baby. Let mommy hear you.”

Carrie groaned again, turning significantly pinker in the face before she removed the garment completely.

Dick sat back to admire her, from her flushed neck down her chest, to the glistening slit between her legs, stuffed with Dick’s fingers. “You want to be good and come for me, don’t you?” The corners of her mouth quirked up watching Carrie tremble visibly, inner walls tightening and then relaxing, allowing Dick’s fingers deeper until she moaned with the fullness.

“That’s it,” she said, leaning in to kiss her properly on the mouth, feeling the electric satisfaction of it zip up her spine.

Carrie’s lips parted pliantly, and the two of them slotted together in a barely-restrained frenzy, moving like the dam of hesitation had busted. Dick guided her through the motions she’d picked up over the years with Carrie moaning wantonly throughout, interspersed with staccato grunts of exertion.

Amid the scene, she turned her face to the side and gasped, lips red and raw and kiss-bitten around a sharp noise of pleasure.

Dick cursed out of sheer appreciation, spearing three fingers into her partner and listening to the wet twist of them moving, all while Carrie arched and trembled and panted. “That’s good,” she encouraged, leaning her forehead against Carrie’s. “Go on, shake for me like a big girl.”

That earned her a wounded sobbing sound that startled her sensibilities for a moment, but pulling away revealed an artwork of red-faced ecstasy as Carrie fell apart chanting a chorus of yeses, and then, “Mommy, mommy, _please._ ”

Dick swallowed her next gasp, pulling fingers from inside her to rub over her clit in sloppy circles, pressing into the wet skin with conviction now. “I’ve got you,” she whispered against her temple. “Go ahead, you can do it, you _can._ ”

Carrie sobbed again, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as she arched tight, hips moving in aborted circles the faster Dick’s fingers went. When she finished, it was with a single abrupt inhalation followed by silence, any noises strangled by the constriction of her throat as she grit her teeth against it, powerful and all-encompassing as it must have been.

Dick pressed her thumb inside, feeling Carrie pulse and stroking her until her ragged breathing tapered into whines of over-stimulation.

“Thank you,” Carrie huffed, “thank you, thank you…”

Dick hushed her gently, shucking her own shorts off before she straddled her. In the same instant, she thrust her fingers, wet with slick, past the girl’s lips. Carrie made a pleased noise around the intrusion before sucking obediently, eyelids fluttering and then closing as she moved her hand tentatively between Dick’s spread thighs.

Clumsy in movement but bold in attempt, she managed to finger messily through Dick’s folds, curiously searching more than anything. The inexperience didn’t deter Dick, who canted her hips toward the touch with delight, allowing Carrie to breach her with one finger before she stroked herself hard, needing the aggressive contact as her mind roared with converging thoughts of her Robin moaning for her, their shared space, and the life that had brought them both to this point.

Dick sucked in a breath through her teeth, crashing in waves as the thoughts fled her at one time. For a while, all that mattered was Carrie’s hand cupping her, still lazily thrusting her finger in and out while she held her steady through her orgasm.

She came down slowly, in a fuzz. Her own fingers were still pressed to Carrie’s tongue, and the girl remained diligent in her sucking and tasting, eyes now open and looking directly into Dick’s. They were dark and hazy, with a certain spark of fire in them.

Carrie detached herself from Dick’s fingers. “I’m kinda surprised the sheets aren’t wetter than they are.”

Dick barked a sudden laugh. “I mean, if that’s something you’re aiming to fix…”

Carrie bit her lip to suppress a smile. “I’d probably scream every bat in this cave awake if you tried again. It’s all very…sensitive.”

Humming thoughtfully, Dick brushed the spit-slick pad of her thumb over Carrie’s nipple, peaked and pink, and watched the girl shudder violently from the touch. She wasn’t kidding.

“Good girl,” she said, eyes lifting to meet Carrie’s the moment she swallowed at the praise. “Mommy’s proud of you.”

Carrie parted her legs further, drawing Dick’s attention to the shine on her inner thighs and the ample gathering of wetness between them. “I can do it again,” she said, contrary to her previous assertion, “I can be good. I want to be.”

Dick was prepared to give in, but exhaustion overtook her in an unfortunately-timed reminder of her lack of sleep. She’d have to fix that if she ever wanted to maintain stamina, whether in the field or in the bed. Her sigh meant a reluctant decline. “Tomorrow,” she promised, despite the fact she couldn’t help herself from pressing three fingers into Carrie’s awaiting heat, feeling her clutch around the new stretch automatically.

“Sure,” Carrie agreed, breathless and beautiful. She grabbed Dick’s shoulders and pulled her in for a demanding kiss. Against her mouth, she repeated, “Tomorrow.”


End file.
